Dream Catcher
by DanielleE
Summary: Ruth Winters' personal life, just have a read! :


**Dream catcher **

**Inspired by the book by Lori Byrd.**

**Part one.**

The water is fizzing and bubbling and so black that which way is up and which way is down cannot be told. I swim one way and then the other, but cannot seem to find the surface. I cannot remember the instant I hit the daggered water, all I know is that it feel like I've been here forever, because once you enter you can't get out, it's for life. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, surly my lungs are ready to give out? Recklessly I inhale, and almost instantly regret what I've done. Light is shot through the water, I screw my eyes shut tight. The waiting isn't so bad, I can somehow convince myself that water taste's just like air. I inhale again and swim some more, now I know I'm dreaming.

So I decide - and why not? - to become a dolphin. I've always loved them, so why not become one? My arms and legs withdraw into a tight, slick, grey body dancing above the waves. Pops and squeaks escape me, I cannot contain my excitement, finally I am above the surface of the water and I can breath. My skin has become totally receptive, it's more like a brain than flesh. It feels every slap of the ocean, sees every droplet in this interior sea lighted by flapping seagulls. Taste and small personified. Hearing seagulls squawk, like musical aardvarks for miles across the water.

Above me, but beyond my range of perception, the sun is a colour, dripping it's scattered, slow-glowing honey. I dive. My skin feeling the rocks, the water, the sunken ships, the tides. Smelling the dark, the light, the shimmer of summer storms.

Speeding deeper, darker, tiny fish like little shadows steaming by, I dip, I turn and with a small lazy flick of my tongue swallow a snack that tastes like sushi!

The next morning - Friday - I'm sitting beside Kathryn on her garden swing as she goes over a list of "Things you'll need to remember for that job of yours." I smile, but tell her I already know exactly what I'll need. She tells me it's not all textbook. She tells me that the nurses in emergency departments think they know best and try to order the doctors around. And she would know. She has enough experience of hospitals - whereas mine is minimal, and not at all of emergency departments.

Be firm with your colleagues, let them know just because you've just finished your training does not mean they can be patronising.

Patients are just that - patients, do not listen to their life story and try to fix everything with a bandage. Examine, treat, discharge and move on.

Be enthusiastic. Try to treat only the most interesting cases, leave the minor cuts and abrasions to the nursing staff.

Find a good doctor, and stick to them like glue. A good doctor will teach you everything they know - which you can better.

Stand up for the members of the team who are on an even footing with you - stick together.

Confidence - if they think you know what your doing, they'll respect you more.

I read over the list a few times, I take it, fold it, and put it in the pocket of my white shorts before heading into the house to make some more lemonade. Kat shouts from the garden and asks if I had an interesting dream last night. For a moment I think of telling her, but then reconsider when I realise that it's always the same one and she's heard it all before. I take two glasses from the cupboard nearest the fridge and pour out the drinks before carefully carrying them back out to the garden.

"Why?" I ask her, deciding the best way to answer a question is to ask one.

"You were moaning and thrashing around in your sleep last night that's all" She smiles and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, then takes the glass I offer her.

My first day working at Holby City Emergency department is a good one.

A majax declared only a few hours into my shift - that's what I signed up for.

I ran over the list in my head all day.

My colleagues:

Toby - even footing. I tried to be nice, he lacks confidence and won't make it, he was pushed into medicine by his family. Named Dracula - everyone he touched died.

Maggie - Seemed like a run of the mill doctor, at first that was. Then she dared to challenge Connie Beauchamp, and saved the patients life. Must shadow her.

Connie - incredible. Must ask her if I can watch her operate sometime.

Charlie and Tess - Kat was right, they do try to order you around. They think they own the place.

The rest of my colleagues blur into insignificance as I drive home in Kats black jeep.

There a two doors at the front of our house. One goes into the hallway and the other, the right, is the office entrance, Kat has her desk, her computer, printer, copier, phone and bookcase. There's a small leather sofa and a couple of framed watercolours hanging on the white walls. Instead of carpet is a huge oriental rug in the middle of the floor.

A sliding glass door, usually left open, leads to the living room. There's a large stone fireplace in the living room, and a large antique grandfather clock, given to Kat by her father. I've never met her father but Kat tells me he's a cardiologist in Ireland.

Leading from the living room is the dining room, and next to that is the kitchen. Kat says what she regrets most about leaving Laura's house when they broke up, was leaving the nice big kitchen. Though this one is by no means tiny, neither is it suited to a chef like Kat. She's starting her own restaurant any day now she tell me. And she's calling it "The forbidden fruit cafe."

Off the Kitchen is the front door and hallway, containing the staircase. On the first floor there's the bathroom, the study and the bedroom. In the study there's an older, unused computer as well as a TV and a very comfortable old brown sofa. Next to that is the bedroom, which is almost always a tip. I love to walk in here and inhale the smell of Kat's perfume.

I wander over to the bed - which is unmade because Kat was in charge of making it this morning because she was still asleep when I left the house. Blue is Kat's favourite colour - and the sheets are solid - no patterns or flowers.

Beside the doorway is a solid oak dressing table, which is piled with clean laundry: Clean knickers lay next to perfume bottles and stolen bar glasses. Off to one side - away from the clutter is a photograph of Kat and her mother. There is a strong family resemblance. Neither are looking at the camera - Kat is about fourteen and is staring out in the distance, whilst her mother gazes down at her - arm around her waist, with a look of pride illuminating her features.

Kat is downstairs in the kitchen - I can hear her crashing around.

I undress silently, catching a glance of my naked body in the mirror opposite me.

Kat says there's nothing like red wine for relaxing on an evening. She's sitting beside the fireplace in the living room, bottle on the coffee table beside her. She hands me a glass as I get near her and pats the floor, beckoning me to join her. She's wearing a blue nightdress.

"Hey kiddo..." she greets me with one of her dazzling smiles.

I'm thinking of how I would just love to have my way with her, right there in front of the fire.

"How was work? Did you settle in okay?" I nod, and launch into a full blown account of my day. I tell her about Toby and Maggie and Charlie and Tess. I tell her about the major incident and the department. I tell her about Connie and the heart massage. I tell her a thrilling tale and she's a good audience - she gasps and smiles and nods in all the right places. When I'm done I'm breathless. Her eyes - her sea green pools sparkle in the firelight. She places her hand on the back of my neck and draws me closer, capturing my lips in a gentle kiss.

"I love you, baby." she says.

"I love you too." I say cheerily, before taking a sip from my wine glass.

She stands. She pulls me to my feet and leads me to the bedroom.

**Part two.**

It was always my dream to be a doctor.

A dream that I strived to achieve.

Some dreams seem so far away now, some I've given up, some I've put on hold for the time being and some unfortunately will most likely never be accomplished.

I still remember the day Kat told me.

Someone was hammering on my door, I wake up disorientated from my crazy dreams. The digital clock next to my bed reads: Saturday 8:35am. I stumble down the hallway of my flat sleepily, pass the living room and open the front door just a crack. Yawning, I see Kat standing there, looking like someone from _Vogue _in pleated cotton trousers and a blouse in sky blue. All at once I'm very awake.

I open the door wide, allowing her to enter, and it's then I realise that Kat hasn't been to my flat before. She'd brought along some star bucks coffee's, she hands one to me.

"I want to apologise about yesterday…" she begins, probably for the one hundredth time since we left the hospital She'd been throwing something's away and a mug that she had tossed over her shoulder had hit me square in the face, splitting open my eyebrow.

Taking the coffee it dawns on me how I must look - a groggy, bed haired girl in a oversized black t-shirt and knickers, a bandage over one eyebrow, and too confused to even greet her or offer her a seat.

"Er.. Lets go into the kitchen," I suggest.

Kat follows me into the room, all the while looking around, then compliments me on 'what a darling place' I have.

Once in the kitchen I get some milk from the fridge to cool my coffee. When I turn around Kat touches the bandage that covers my sore eyebrow and the three stitches, I flinch slightly.

"I'm really sorry," She says, and a look of worry clouds her face. She takes me in her arms, pulling me close. We stay like that until I start to feel faint, it's then I realise I've been holding my breath.

Light is streaming through the windows, we sit facing eat other at the table.

"This isn't going to be pleasant," she signs and looks at her hands - they tremble a little as the smile fades from her face, "There's something you should know…"

Kat warns me that the story she is going to tell me will change the way I think of her, forever, and tells me that it will change our relationship.

Kat is HIV positive.

She says this in the same tone as if saying her eyes are green, or her hair brown, or her shoe size seven.

"I'll spare you the details," she says, "When me and Laura split… well when she got bored I suppose… well anyway, she wasn't very discreet about her affairs and I started spending more time with David."

Kat and David took advantage of discount mini-break packages and many a lost weekend was spent in resort towns. Recreational drugs were plentiful.

"yep, coke, heroin, anything to dull the pain of losing Laura," Kat says, recalling how easily they gave themselves to strangers, in bars or at parties, it didn't matter who they were so wasted.

"And them a load of other shit happened, I wrecked the car and got sent to hospital and they found out that I was an IV drug user - which thrilled my dad no end. Anyway, I lost my job and got sent to rehab. Nobody would hire me. I moved back in with my parents and they supported me for about six months. Dad helped me set up my own business and gave me the car. David was also feeling a little better by this point… and sometimes he felt well enough to lie on the sofa while I worked. He gave me the incentive to get back on my feet… before he died."

Looking up from my coffee to her sea green eyes, I see that they are filled with tears. The air is filled with an extremely loud silence, I reach for her hand, it's shaking. I stand and kneel down, touching her forehead with mine and I tell her it's okay. I stroke her hair, as if she could read my thoughts with my fingertips. And I hold her - the warmth of her skin next to mine, the scent of her coffee laced breath, the beat of her hearth against mine. And I sooth her.

I spent that entire week researching HIV and looking for a cure for AIDS.


End file.
